


A Shorter Knife

by Flynne



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Mass Effect 2: Overlord, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynne/pseuds/Flynne
Summary: Jack has tried to keep Atticus Shepard at a distance, and she thought she'd succeeded. It takes one moment in the middle of a Cerberus base for her to realize she has completely failed, and the worst part is she can't bring herself to regret it.
Relationships: Jack | Subject Zero/Male Shepard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	A Shorter Knife

Jack growled and kicked the door hard enough to rattle her bones. “You’re supposed to be good at this tech shit!”

“Doors get more complicated when they’re locked by a geth VI hybrid!” Garrus snapped, hands flexing in annoyance as her kick shook the delicate wiring between his fingers. 

“Just let me tear it down! Shepard’s walking around out there like a fucking zombie in a base full of geth!” And wasn’t  _ that _ just the cherry on this shit sundae. Shepard had stumbled back from the console and fallen to his knees, then lurched up and staggered out the door before either of them could stop him. Jack’s hands curled into claws as she furiously tried to shake the feeling of dread that had fallen over her at the sight of the vacant look in his eyes.

“In case you forgot,” Garrus said bitingly, “you already  _ tried _ tearing the door down. And it brought down the outer blast doors. Just  _ let me work. _ ”

Jack let out another wordless growl, biotics flaring, and smashed her boot into the base of the console that had zapped Shepard. The console released another discordant static scream and the overhead lights flashed fitfully. Garrus rounded on her in exasperation, but before he could speak, the door slid open.

Both of them turned to stare into the hallway.

“...I didn’t do that,” Garrus said.

Jack huffed and pushed past him. “You’re  _ welcome.” _

He stalked after her, swinging his assault rifle off his back again. “You didn’t do that, either. Look.” All the doors in the hallway gaped open, all the cameras that had tracked their progress were dark.

“Shit. You think he fixed it?”

Instead of answering her, Garrus opened the com channel. “Shepard, are you there?”

Jack braced herself for the squeal of the jamming signal but it didn’t come. Instead, Shepard’s voice came through loud and clear.  _ “Garrus. Copy that.” _ Even over the com, he sounded pissed; but even so, something in her stomach unclenched hearing that he was all right. 

“Are you all right? Where are you?” Garrus asked.

_ “Just follow the hall,” _ came the terse reply.  _ “Make it quick.” _

Jack started to jog, pulling ahead of Garrus as they followed the curve of the corridor. The hall ended in a wide circular room with circuits arching overhead. She saw Archer first, leaning against a nearby pillar, cringing in spite of his obvious anger, cradling a bruise blackening the side of his face. Shepard was standing on a raised platform at the center of the room, standing in front of - 

“What the  _ fuck _ is that?” Jack frowned, hearing the rambling, disembodied voice drifting from hidden speakers as she moved closer.

“Project Overlord,” Shepard said grimly, keeping his attention on the man suspended from the circuits and machinery in front of him. “And we’re ending it now. Meet David Archer, the ‘rogue VI’ we were warned about. His piece of shit brother decided to turn him into a computer because he couldn’t fight back or say no. And now his piece of shit brother is going to tell me how to release him.”

Archer glared but came forward anyway, rightly interpreting Shepard’s answer as a command directed at him. He moved to climb up onto the platform. “Look. If you’ll just step aside, I can - ”

“Don’t you  _ fucking _ touch him!” Shepard snarled, rounding on Archer so violently that he tripped and stumbled back. “You’re going to stand there and you’re not going to say anything except instructions on how to get him out of this thing.”

Defiance and resentment darkened Archer’s face, but he didn’t argue. His defensive posture relaxed slightly as he stepped away - defending against  _ Shepard _ , Jack realized, and she felt a stab of vicious satisfaction as she glanced at his bruised face again.

Shepard tugged off his gauntlets and tossed them to Garrus. “Here. And call Joker - have him send Dr. Chakwas down in the shuttle.” Hands bare, he reached for the metal prongs holding David’s eyelids open. The metal was slick with sweat and tears but his fingers were steady as he followed Archer’s verbal instructions. As soon as the prongs and other cranial sensors were lifted away, the computerized voice listing square roots fell silent, and David squeezed his eyes shut against the glaring lights overhead. 

He gagged and coughed as the tubes in his trachea and esophagus were pulled free, ducking his head as much as he could as he took a gasping breath. “The square root of - ” The words splintered and broke. “ - Nine hun...nine hundred and - ” His voice fractured into dry, ragged sobs. 

Shepard half turned, extending a hand in Archer’s direction. “Give me your lab coat.” When Archer balked, caught off-guard by the unexpected request, Shepard scowled and snapped his fingers. “Lab coat. Now.” Archer complied, unfastening his outer garment and gingerly handing it over. 

From her vantage point on the other side of the platform, Jack watched Shepard gently drape the coat over David’s head in an attempt to block some of the light and ambient sound. With his head partially covered, David couldn’t see the black rage that still lingered on Shepard’s face, but Jack could. She also saw how the rage never touched David, never caused Shepard’s hands to be ungentle. Even as he navigated unfamiliar medical equipment and intricate circuitry, his movements were steady and calm. In spite of the fury she could see him choking back, he kept his voice controlled and low in deference to David’s already overwhelmed senses.

“Jack.” Shepard beckoned to her. “Help me?”

She climbed up on the platform next to him. “With what?”

“He won’t be able to stand. I need you to get these last restraints so I can catch him.” 

Jack shifted to stand behind David. She opened the clasps on his arms and around his waist, suppressing a grimace at the feel of his chilled, clammy skin, and David collapsed into Shepard’s outstretched arms.

Shepard eased him down, keeping the lab coat draped over his head and shoulders, and knelt behind him. David shivered violently, rocking repeatedly back and forth. He was unsteady but Shepard kept him upright, touching him lightly but not restricting him. 

David still mumbled disjointedly, repeating the same mathematical phrase over and over, but he couldn’t manage to finish it. “The square root of - Nine hun - root, of nine hundred - ”

“Thirty point one,” Shepard said gently. “The square root of 906.01 is 30.1.” His eyes still looked angry, but his expression had softened. All his attention was on the weeping man in front of him.

Jack’s throat grew tight and she wrenched her gaze away. She’d seen something similar before. With her unrestricted access to Cerberus files, she’d rifled through everything they’d had on Shepard. And among the documents, pictures, emails, and medical charts, there had been grainy footage from a security camera on the Citadel docks. She’d watched as Shepard had talked down a suicidal young woman from Mindoir, watched as he’d convinced her to trust him and swallow the sedative he’d held out to her, watched as he’d caught her in his arms as she passed out and handed her to the medical staff standing by. There’d been no audio, but she knew he’d spoken to the woman in the same reassuring way he was speaking to David, knew he’d swallowed back any anger or hesitation at shared trauma, and shown kindness and gentleness to a victim of violence.

Shepard was kind. For all his hard edges and ruthless reputation - well-deserved, from what Jack had seen - he was kind to people who were hurting. And she wondered, with a fierce and unexpected pang of regret, how her life would have been different if her shuttle had been found by someone like him after her escape from Pragia.

_ He’s worth the risk. _

The thought broke sharp and clear in her mind, and her breath stuttered for a moment before she regained control. Anyone she’d ever trusted had either abandoned her or fucked her over or left her for dead.  _ You let someone get that close, it just means they need a shorter knife. _

The tramp of footsteps echoed down the curving hall, and the ship’s doctor appeared with one of her Cerberus flunky assistants in tow. Her face went slack with shock for a moment before she hurried to kneel at Shepard’s side. “Good God, what’s been done to him?”

“I’ll explain later,” Shepard said tightly. “For now, we just need to get him out of here.” He glanced over his shoulder at Lawson, because of fucking course the Cerberus cheerleader would show up. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Lawson said, ignoring Jack’s not-so-subtle scoff. She eyed Gavin Archer coldly.

Shepard grunted. “Don’t suppose we can arrange for him to be arrested?” He scowled at the look on Lawson’s face but kept his voice low to keep from upsetting David further. “The Illusive Man is going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

“He may not have known all the details,” Lawson pointed out. 

“I didn’t even believe that line the first time I heard it,” Shepard said flatly. “Plausible deniability doesn’t apply to someone like him. And in case you’ve forgotten about Horizon or the Collector ship, things the Illusive Man ‘didn’t know about’ have a habit of biting me in the ass.” He turned his attention to Chakwas. “Can we get him out of here?”

Chakwas looked up briefly from her omni-tool’s scan of David. “He’s in no danger,” she told him. “Though I think it would be best if he were sedated for a bit. He’ll only stress his body further if he keeps this up.”

Shepard frowned as he looked back to David, still rocking, still mumbling brokenly to himself. “David? Can you hear me?” At first David didn’t seem to acknowledge, but after a moment he reached out and rested a shaking hand on Shepard’s forearm. “We’re going to give you something to help you sleep, okay? And we’re getting you out of here. Can we do that?” No response was forthcoming but David didn’t try to struggle or move away, so Shepard nodded at the doctor.

He didn’t flinch at the injection in his arm, and in a few moments he’d fallen silent, sagging sideways against Shepard’s chestplate. Shepard carefully disentangled him from the lab coat and helped Chakwas wrap him in a blanket. Only then, when David was settled and resting peacefully, did Shepard turn his attention back to Archer. “What do we do with  _ him?” _

“Leave him,” Lawson said dismissively. “The Illusive Man will send a team to collect him. Or not.”

Shepard didn’t look happy about it but didn’t press the matter further. He shifted David in his arms and lifted him with a gentleness that twisted something deep behind Jack’s ribs.  _ He doesn’t need a knife. He’s already too close and you fucking let him in.  _

It had happened without her realizing it - every time she’d let him stay to talk, every time he’d listened to her, every time he’d trusted her; hell, he’d diverted the entire fucking ship to go to Pragia and dump a fuckton of explosives in an abandoned building just because she’d asked him to. Even when she’d finally had enough and kicked him out of her pit below engineering, telling him to keep his distance - even then, by withdrawing, somehow he’d come closer.

Jack followed as Shepard and the doctor led the way out of the chamber - flaring her biotics at Archer as she passed, just to watch him flinch - and walked on behind

_ He’s worth the risk. _

Jack knew she wasn’t weak. Shepard was a formidable Adept, but Jack knew that of the two of them, she was the stronger biotic. And she knew that Shepard knew it, too. But Shepard could have overpowered David easily. Could have held him down and had the doctor sedate him, but he didn’t. He gave David a chance to choose, if he could, even if his choice might make things more difficult. The woman from Mindoir, he had let her make her own choice as well, even though he could have subdued her with brute force. And Jack knew now that even if Shepard  _ could  _ have overpowered her and taken her prisoner on Purgatory, he wouldn’t have.

She’d never felt that certainty about anyone before, and when she searched within herself for the last shreds of doubt or mistrust towards him, she found herself grasping at empty air. 

She watched Shepard help Chakwas get David settled in the shuttle, and it wasn’t until they’d lifted off on the way back to the  _ Normandy _ that he looked up and noticed her eyes fixed on him.

“What? I got something on my face?”

“I don’t know how to tell you if you haven’t noticed it by now, but - ” Jack lifted her middle fingers and made a slashing motion along both sides of her face, mirroring the outline of the glowing scars slashed across his jawbone.

He gave a wry snort of laughter and she averted her eyes before she could see him smile, ejecting the half-spent thermal clip from her shotgun to watch it spin on the floor. 

For the second time in her life, Jack had found herself freed from prison and at the mercy of the first ship to come by. Shepard hadn’t been there after Pragia. But he was here now. He could make a difference, if she allowed him to, and it was with mingled surprise and a sense of inevitability that Jack realized she wanted to let him.


End file.
